


And his eyes have all the seeming

by wifebeast__s



Series: To go boldly [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, I have notes about all of these scenes, Maybe some sexual content, Might add some original scenes, Spock's gaze is hypnotic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:03:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7861060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wifebeast__s/pseuds/wifebeast__s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has human eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The better part of valour

**Author's Note:**

> I have become unhealthily obsessed with Spock's eyes while re-watching the reboot. They tell a story of their own throughout the films, and I so desperately wanted to tell it. So these are those scenes, and then maybe some original scenes thrown in, in which other characters read the story that I saw there.
> 
> Seriously, though, kudos to Mr. Quinto for his depth of character in this part.
> 
> Chapter 1 title from the bard himself.

The word ran almost hollow in her mind – Farragut. 

She walked swiftly – one may even call it marching – toward the Commander she knew would have been responsible for that decision. This was unacceptable. This was traitorous. 

She could spot him a mile away, when her focus wasn't entirely on pulling his distinctive features out of a crowd. With her mind singularly pointed on the one task, it took her all of three seconds to find the source of her fury.

She spared a quick glance to ensure there was no one of consequence in the vicinity, then spoke in a clipped tone, “Commander, a word?”

His gaze did not meet hers, “Yes, lieutenant?”

Nyota nearly hissed. He purposely was avoiding her eyes. That would not spare him, “Was I not one of your top students?”

“Indeed you were,” he kept his gaze on his PADD before turning and beginning to make his way toward another terminal.

She followed.

“And did I not, on multiple occasions, demonstrate an exceptional aural sensitivity, and I quote, 'an unparalleled ability to identify sonic anomalies in subspace transmission tests'?”

“Consistently, yes.”

Unacceptable, she thought again, all but forcing him to turn and look at her.

She studied his expression in a microsecond. That was all it took anymore. While his visage was stoic as ever, she had learned the language of his gaze. He already knew why she had approached him; she could see his inner conflict – his desire to give her what she wanted, his understanding that she would serve the fleet's newest and most advanced ship well, and his hesitancy to do just that.

“And while you are aware that my own qualified desire is to serve on the Enterprise, I'm assigned to the Farragut?”

The word felt like acid on her tongue. 

His eyes scanned her face, seeking her understanding. The conflict within him came further to the surface, “It was an attempt to,” he performed his own scan of the area before turning a more pointed look on her, his voice dropping further, “avoid the appearance of favoritism.”

 _You should know that, Nyota_ , his eyes were shouting.

She was having none of that.

“No. I'm assigned to the Enterprise.”

There was a heartbeat of a moment that stretched, their eyes locked. She watched as his resolve crumbled. He looked away before she could read too much more, his fingers dancing over the screen.

“Yes, I believe you are.”

“Thank you," she offered a bright smile before he turned away to continue his duties, and she hers.


	2. Rage is mingled with his grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation on the bridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Virgil, of Roman poetry fame.

Was he surprised? Yes.

Should he have been? Honestly, no.

The elder Spock's feelings had been a coarse brand upon his mind, emotions that ripped him apart from the inside out. He had lost his breath. There was grief in his eyes, in his Vulcan heart, and some anger – at injustice, at his helplessness – but mostly Jim had seen and felt sadness.

But that was an older Spock. One who had grown and matured, was more capable of handling those impossibly sharp and painful things, accepting them for what they were. He was tempered. He was calm. He hadn't been provoked by Jim Kirk.

So as soon as the words came out of his mouth, “you never loved her!” and Spock's eyes went black as coals, full of fury and hate, Jim realized too late he had made a miscalculation.

The Vulcan's eyes were on fire, spitting rage, grief, things that Kirk could barely register. They were as expressive as his older self's, but they were more raw. The word unbridled came to mind. 

And, holy shit, he was strong. Another misstep on Kirk's part. Spock's slim shape, his lack of obvious bulk, was by no means an indication of his actual strength. Kirk was being bodily thrown; he was desperately trying to block, but even blocking was painful. He wouldn't be surprised to develop angry marks from the blows.

The hands around his throat definitely would leave some. 

He had succeeded. Spock was definitely showing how compromised he was. But Kirk thought he might not live to take command of the ship, if the acting captain didn't stop cutting off his oxygen.

He vaguely heard someone shout the Vulcan's name.

But his eyes didn't change. Not right away. They bore into Kirk's, and they seemed to be screaming at him – _you don't understand love at all you are unaware of what it means to lose everything you are unworthy of all you have achieved who do you think you are of course I loved her more than you will love anything_.

And just as quickly as his eyes had sprung to life with fury, they flickered into shame and regret. 

Spock pulled his hands away, as if burned, and turned away. He mumbled to Bones that he was unfit for duty.

Kirk stood shakily and watched as Spock made his way off the bridge, pausing only to stare at Lieutenant Uhura for a moment.


	3. The entire ocean is affected by a pebble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock moves when he is moved to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, but their kiss in STID, she gets on her tip toes, looks him in the eye, then literally commands him with a glance at his lips to kiss her. She's been giving him the silent treatment, and then she's so happy with his apology that she's like, yeah, I'm happy now, so c'mere. That is some hardcore power right there.
> 
> I might have an alt. version of this chapter, FYI.
> 
> Chapter title from Blaise Pascal.

There was an economy to Spock's movements, just as with his words. When he spoke, he stood still, firm, though rigid wasn't quite the right word. He was grounded. It made him an excellent leader, as his stillness held most others' attention. He was not one to fidget. 

This was something that Uhura had grown accustomed to, even adored about Spock. He moved when he was moved to do so, when it was appropriate or necessary. When he really, truly wanted to.

She had grown accustomed to the way his eyes moved _for_ him, following her own movements with exceptional focus. His stillness belied the heady currents of his emotions – emotions she had felt, that she could see writ plain as day in the depths of his eyes.

He moved when she embraced him and offered him brief reprieve from shouldering all of the pain of his home world's destruction. His eyes were lost then, but he found strength in hers.

He moved to press his lips to hers before facing the very Romulans who were responsible for that destruction. His eyes carried the illogical promise to return to her, and she knew that he would do everything in his power to do so.

He moved to attempt to see her past his chair in the shuttle, despite its futility. She could not see his eyes, but she understood, then.

When she stepped close enough that he had to look down to meet her gaze, she used her eyes to speak to him, as well. She lowered them to his lips, then back up with a smile – an invitation, a request, very nearly an order. And he complied, leaning forward to meet her in a tender kiss. His eyes were compliant and relieved.

He moved to her side when they were in danger, when he knew she was incapable of finding the same calm that he was. His eyes were everywhere, and he was grateful that Nyota's hand was in his – better to convey to her all that he felt for her, try to calm her fears, just as he tried to calm his.

He moved to find Khan when she commanded he do so. His eyes burned with rage, but he sought hers for direction. 

There was economy to Spock's movements. He moved only when he was moved to. And he always moved for her.


	4. Not always successful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pike sees that Spock has been spending too much time with the recalcitrant Kirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Roman for this title - Titus Livius.
> 
> I love sassy Spock.

The admiral watched the back and forth between captain and first officer for a while. It was almost amusing. But it had to stop at some point. He had unpleasant consequences to deal out.

“Starfleet's mandate is to explore and observe,” he began, making his way painfully around the desk, “not to interfere.”

Spock turned calm eyes on him, trying to use logic to explain, “Had the mission gone according to plan, the indigenous species would never have been aware of our interference.”

Pike was starting to think that perhaps Spock had spent too much time with Kirk, “That's a technicality.”

Most definitely spending too much time with Kirk. The Vulcan's eyes sparked, defiance writ clearly within them, “I am Vulcan, sir,” he leveled, “We embrace technicality.”

You've got to be kidding me, Pike grimaced.

“Are you giving me attitude, Spock?”

The Vulcan's eyes lit up with temerity. Pike could almost see him choosing his next words to avoid answering the question, since, as Spock would say, Vulcans do not lie.

“I am expressing multiple attitudes simultaneously, sir. To which are you referring?”

There was a dare in his gaze, as well - _you are challenging me, and I will not be defeated_. 

He was gambling with the wrong man, “Out,” he almost whispered.

Spock didn't move. 

“You're dismissed, commander.”

Concern replaced the rebellious glint, as the Vulcan realized that he was being sent away so that Pike could hand out the consequences for what happened, but not to him. He turned to Kirk, who avoided his gaze.

With no further recourse, Spock turned and exited.


	5. Great heart will not be denied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones sees the depth of Spock's courage and willpower when faced with the potential of Lt. Uhura being lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That time I posted chapter 4 as chapter 5 because who pays attention to what they're copying and pasting right?! Fixed now, though!
> 
> Chapter title from Tolkien.

McCoy felt uncomfortable knowing as much as he did about Spock now, but he could also begrudgingly admit that it had brought him slightly closer to the _half_ -Vulcan. Maybe it was this new-found level of understanding that made it less shocking when the commander spoke.

“Mr. Chekov's technical acumen makes him more valuable aboard the Franlkin with Mr. Scott. It is therefore logical that I replace him.”

The tightness in his voice, and the burning in his eyes made it clear immediately to Bones why he was offering to go back into combat, even with his wound still obviously causing him discomfort, if not pain.

Spock's eyes were on Jim, as close to pleading as a Vulcan might ever get.

“How is that logical Spock? You just got back on your feet.”

The pleading turned into resolute dedication, his words delivered with the same force of the insistence within his gaze, “Lieutenant Uhura is in that facility, Jim.”

It sounded as logical and emotionless as anything else he might say, except that it was clear from the steady look he shared with Jim that it was not. There was a moment of silence, as Spock stared straight at the captain. If Bones had ever questioned whether a Vulcan, half-Vulcan, whatever, could really love a person, he wouldn't again. He had the look of a man at the brink of losing everything that he had left, who would stop at nothing to save it. 

He might as well have been shouting; _I must get there, to confirm that she is alive, that she will continue to live. This is not a want, it is not a request. I will go._

Spock's eyes never left the captain, but Bones pulled his own away from the commander to help him plea his case, “I'll keep an eye on him.”

Kirk must have seen the immutable will, as well, since he responded with nothing more than an “Understood.”

There was a flash of immeasurable gratitude before Spock's features again relaxed into logical stoicism.


	6. Long only what you have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyota is the sole object of his desire, and he shows it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to imagine that a lustful Spock look makes clothing incinerate and disappear within seconds. I mean, right?
> 
> Title from Andre Gide.

Nyota felt many things when Spock cast his eyes on her. Sometimes it was simple contentment, other times powerful happiness, occasionally, but very seldom, frustration. Times like this, though, she felt wanted and _want_ – a reflection of the desire that she saw in those orbs. It still took her by surprise at times, the raw heat of his gaze. 

The first time she had seen it, she hadn't been sure what to expect. Of course, she knew the mechanics of how _it_ would work with a Vulcan...half-Vulcan. She had not exactly expected things to go this way, but she had hoped, and she was always an optimist.

Once she was there, so to speak, she was breathless.

There was a possessive quality to the look he cast upon her. Not one that chilled her or that felt like a cage; it was one accompanied by wonder and even humility. Within the brown depths, she saw reflected back all that she felt – excitement, nervousness, anticipation, hunger. That first time had left her with a new hunger, a near insatiable one. She wanted to feel that same look as often as she could.

The nervousness no longer lingered behind his lids, but the rest... The heat was still there, mirroring the heat that his palm left on her skin, that his lips left on her lips.

She delighted in that hypnotic look, how she felt pulled inexorably toward him. In truth, she often felt like closing the distance between them. That feeling was simply amplified in the moments when his look alone melted her resolve, peeled the uniform from her skin, and laid her bare before him.

She delighted in the way that he would still above her (or under, or next to, or in front of, or wherever he was in relation to her in that moment) and drag his eyes, like fingernails, down the length of her, starting with her eyes, stopping at her lips, lingering on her curves, until snapping back up to her eyes. It was a ritual. He would caress her entire body with that final sweep of his gaze before pressing his mouth hungrily against hers.

She delighted in that look, up until the moment his eyes would close and his words took up their job with a whisper of her name.


End file.
